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[hr][color=#B8041A][b]LOCATION[/b][/color][b]:[/b] Torragonese Desert
[color=#B8041A][b]INTERACTIONS[/b][/color][b]:[/b] Ayla [@Ti], Jocasta [@Force and Fury], Yalen [@pantothenic], Ysilla [@Pirouette], Zarina [@YummyYummy]
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Kaspar watched the red-painted halassa charge unwittingly—or perhaps uncaringly—into the stone wall he’d constructed. That was as he expected, though he was surprised to see it crash to the ground so easily; it would seem the heads were not so well-armored as the shells. He watched the leg spasm, considering his options, when his attention was drawn by the screaming of Yalen’s opponent. 

He did not expect to see such ruthless efficiency from the priest and watched the sludge of its eyes dribble down the beast’s cheeks as red mist drifted from the vacated eyesockets. It was not a pretty sight, though he swallowed the disgust that rose in his throat and stashed it away with his other carefully-kept emotions. The halassa was dead, and that mattered more than how it was done—though he would be sure to avoid Yalen’s bad side after seeing such well-directed power. 

He heard Ayla retch, and his red eyes darted towards the performer, scanning her surroundings to make sure her distraction would not put her in danger. She straightened, though, returning to the task at hand, and the nobleman nodded at her resolution. She had yet to go for a kill-shot—though it’s not like Kaspar had either—but seemed to be disorienting the halassa, and certainly wouldn’t need intervention from someone who had yet to kill his own foe. He would keep an eye on her, in case things went suddenly awry, but trusted her to handle it for now. 

It was Jocasta’s powerful shove that drew his attention next, puffs of sand spraying up with every impact of the great turtle on the loose ground. It was quite the powerful thing and seemed rather effective as the beast stopped struggling. [color=#FFE4B5]“I-I'm sorry, That's one more down, b-but it took a lot out of me. I've got your backs, though! I'll...I'll scan in the distance for any more. Gods help us if there are!”[/color] He noted her nervousness, understanding it could be poison to one’s hope, and called back, [color=#B8041A][b]”Good idea! If there are, we’ll find a way to manage!”[/b][/color] He hoped it would give some confidence to her, and anyone else in the group who might need it. That was the one thing Kaspar could truly impart—incorruptible faith in one’s self. 

Zarina and Ysilla, too, seemed to be holding their own. The former moved gracefully with her sword, avoiding the beast’s maddened assault, and seemed to be closing in on a kill as she danced in time with Ayla’s song.

[color=#FD5E53]”Hold it there for a moment Ayla! I can help!”[/color]

Kaspar’s attention was drawn again to his friend, and he noted Yalen’s assistance; it was good to know who you could rely on for help, and he seemed to be as kind as one would hope of a priest. Moreso, it meant that the binder need not worry about Ayla’s combat until he’d truly finished his own. His gaze slid back to his turtle, twitching in the sand, and new plans formulated in his mind. 

He needed a kill-shot, there was no way around it. His skill with chemical magic was not as strong as he’d like for this purpose—though a few ideas did come to pass—and binding magic was not suited to offense. Still, there were… options. He’d read about theories, and he knew that the premise was similar enough to what he was doing already. 

Kaspar reached his awareness out, feeling for the energies of the material that made up his halassa. His senses delved into its daze-opened maw and plunged down the throat until—[i]there[/i]. Focusing on that space in its neck and the material energy he’d drawn, the boy began to cast. More stone, like that of his barriers, but within the cavity of its throat. He imagined the stone forming and expanding, pressing against the flesh until it ruptured the walls of the esophagus, and next the vital blood vessels that traversed the neck and perhaps the bones of its spine as well. When his senses told him that the damage had been done, Kaspar would switch once again to his drawing prowess. 

Delicately, he pulled apart the stone he’d placed, leaving room for the creature to bleed within and removing direct evidence of what he’d done. It was unlikely anyone would inspect the bodies, as rife with scavengers as they would soon be, and he could find some half-excuses to justify his actions… But Kaspar knew they trod dangerously close to the line between Binding and Blood, repurposing matter as the former but damaging as the latter. 

He pulled at the sand beneath his barrier, too, to bring the stone wall crashing down on the stunned—and likely dying—turtle. Perhaps that would deal the killing blow—he did not feel guilt or shame at his actions, but a pressing awareness of his moral standpoint. He had not drawn from the creature, though that too would be justified if it meant protecting human life, but he’d never killed something more than a plant with his magic, and it sat in his mind, relegated to later digestion.